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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30133572">petals and ink</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarusmoon/pseuds/icarusmoon'>icarusmoon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Tangled (2010)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Flower Shop &amp; Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Relationships, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 16:48:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,747</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30133572</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarusmoon/pseuds/icarusmoon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"He could take it all and leave Corona and its memory-haunted streets for somewhere far, far away. He could buy a castle, or an island, and the police would ever find him. He’d be Flynn Rider again, and he’d finally be </i>alone."</p><p>The last thing <strike>Flynn Rider</strike> Eugene Fitzherbert wants is a job at the local flower shop. But he's desperate, and he needs to stay out of prison. What he doesn't expect is to meet a cute tattoo artist on his first day.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider/Rapunzel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>petals and ink</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I finally got so obsessed with the possibility of this AU that I wrote it instead of working on literally any other WIP. </p><p>A few notes:</p><p>- I know the trope usually includes shop <i>owners</i>, but I didn't think that fit New Dream. Instead, I made Eugene a begrudging flower shop employee. Rapunzel's an apprentice at a tattoo parlor. Tor the pub thug actually owns the flower shop, because he wants to be a florist. :) I think the shops are also usually next door, but I wanted Eugene to be clueless. </p><p>-For now, this is rated T, but that might change in the future. Right now, there's just a lot of cursing--just be mindful! </p><p>-The fanfic "Freudian" by Fabulist has inspired me a lot throughout the writing process. Thank you for such a beautiful story. </p><p>- A huge thank you to @eugeneismyqueen for letting me borrow her chameleon tattoo idea, and for coming up with the adorable shop name Sundruops and Stems. You're the best. &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Eugene had gone to the flower shop as a last resort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t particularly care for flowers, but there weren’t many employers who were sympathetic to his reformed thief sob story. On the rare occasions he focused on his experience, he realized his skills were less than marketable. Picking locks? Flirting with whoever sat next to him at the bar? Easy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Customer service? Not so much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Tor, the owner of Sundrops and Stems, had been willing to schedule an interview—and Eugene was in no position to decline. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That didn’t make the interview process any less intimidating. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat in Tor’s office, tapping his foot nervously as he waited for the next question. It was harder to lie, Eugene realized, when you were trying to be a better person. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tor stared at Eugene’s poor excuse of a resume and raised an eyebrow. “Your work experience is pretty short, kid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m a fast learner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tor grunted and scanned the rest of the page. “Want to explain this employment gap?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sure, Tor. I left foster care, had a bunch of shitty jobs, and when I got tired of that, I started stealing instead. But then I got arrested, and now I have to clean up my act if I don’t want to go to prison. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was going through some personal things,” Eugene said instead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For five years?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shit. He knew he should have lied on his resume. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um...it was a really rough time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tor grunted again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eugene obviously didn’t have very much experience with job interviews, but he had a feeling all this grunting wasn’t a good sign. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Tor,” he said quickly, “I’m going to be honest. I don’t know anything about flowers, and as you can see, I don’t know anything about dealing with customers. </span>
  <em>
    <span>But I need this job</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gruff florist stared at him for a moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it was the desperation in Eugene’s voice. Maybe Tor had made some mistakes in his life, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But for whatever reason, Tor sighed and asked, “Can you be here at seven o’clock on Monday morning?”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eugene arrived on Monday around seven-thirty, hungover and bleary-eyed. He apologized to Tor and lied about traffic, which just earned him a glare and a lecture. Something about timeliness and responsibility. It was hard to listen, being hungover and all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After what felt like a lifetime, Tor finished speaking. He looked down at Eugene expectantly. “Got that?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eugene blinked. What, exactly, was he supposed to get?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, yeah. Got it. No problem.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tor sighed and shook his head. “I’m taking a chance on you, kid,” he finally said. “Don’t fuck it up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Huh. Eugene thought he already had. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tor led him to the back office, and Eugene filled out dozens of unfamiliar forms that made his heart pound. Each blank felt like a test, a spotlight that he needed to escape. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Name. Address. ID number. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He swallowed and completed the forms, cursing to himself as he wrote “Eugene Fitzherbert” over and over again. If Tor noticed Eugene’s discomfort, he didn’t mention it. He simply filed the paperwork and the two returned to the main part of the shop, where Tor explained that he needed Eugene to handle the register and help customers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t need any help arranging flowers?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tor just laughed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fortunately, the cash register was easy enough to learn, and Tor felt comfortable leaving Eugene alone every once in a while. But the shop was dead; he hadn’t seen a single customer all morning, and he was bored out of his mind. He doodled on sticky notes and kept checking his phone (not that anyone but Lance ever texted him—and he knew for a fact Lance was sleeping off his own hangover). He wished he had brought a book to read. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Tor came by to take extra cash out of the register, Eugene’s anxiety skyrocketed. He was bored—so fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>bored</span>
  </em>
  <span>—and he had spent most of the day resenting the fact he was stuck at a place like Sundrops and Stems. His fingers itched as he stared at the clean stacks of bills. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could take it. He could take it all and leave Corona and its memory-haunted streets for somewhere far, far away. He could buy a castle, or an island, and the police would ever find him. He’d be Flynn Rider again, and he’d finally be </span>
  <em>
    <span>alone</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eugene?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eugene shook himself out of his daydream. “Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We’ve got a customer,” Tor said, nodding towards the front door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right on cue, the doorbell chimed and a small brunette walked in, her eyes widening as she took in the hundreds of flowers. Eugene couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard her whisper, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Wow</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tor looked pointedly at Eugene. “Ask her if she needs any help. I’ll be in the back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eugene balked. How the hell was he supposed to help this girl? Wasn’t he supposed to go through some kind of training? </span>
</p><p><span>The brunette looked at Eugene curiously and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear before turning to inspect a display of roses. She was cute, he realized. Her hair was cut short, and freckles dotted her nose and cheeks. Her arms and legs were covered in colorful tattoos</span><span>—</span><span>flowers and suns and all kinds of animals. He was particularly fond of the green chameleon on her tricep. Delicate cursive peeked out from the fabric of her shirt onto her collarbone, but he couldn’t make out the entire phrase. </span><em><span>There is more</span></em> <em><span>i, </span></em><span>he read. More of what?</span></p><p>
  <span>Could he get fired for flirting with her? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eugene made sure the cash register was locked, then made his way to the aisle where she was browsing. She looked so out of place in the small cottage of a flower shop, and yet, she seemed perfectly at home, practically beaming as she took in all the bouquets of flowers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Can I help you with anything? </span>
</p><p><span>She looked up at him, startled. It was as though she was so fascinated by every flower that she had forgotten she was in the middle of a store. “Oh! Hi!” Her eyes widened as she found a bouquet of rainbow roses. “Are those </span><em><span>real?  </span></em><span>They’re </span><em><span>beautiful</span></em><span>.</span> <span>I’ve read about cross-breeding flowers, but I didn’t think you could change petals like that.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Fuck if he knew. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re real,” Eugene said. They </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> kinda pretty, now that she mentioned it—like each flower had been dipped in tie-dye. “And it looks like they’re on sale, if that’s what you’ve decided to get.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m actually looking for a gift,” she said brightly. “We have a new artist at the shop, and she seems </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>nervous. I thought flowers might cheer her up a little.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The shop?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The tattoo shop down the street. I’m an apprentice there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, that explained all her tattoos. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah.” He nodded, even though he wasn’t sure what tattoo shop she was referring to. He also had no idea what a tattoo apprenticeship entailed, but it was comforting to know artists had to go through some sort of training before stabbing you repeatedly with a needle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl considered him for a moment. “It’s okay if you don’t have time to help me, by the way.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got plenty of time,” Eugene said with a smirk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fine. He gave up. He was flirting with her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But only a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rolled her eyes, which was a bit disappointing. Women loved his smirks. Men, too. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Everyone </span>
  </em>
  <span>fell for Flynn Rider. “It’s also okay if you don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>how to help me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eugene scoffed. “What makes you think I don’t know how to help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” she said, blinking in surprise, “Isn’t it your first day?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but</span>
  <span>—</span>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay. Everyone has trouble on their first day,” she said with a shrug. She looked back at the bouquet and cocked her head. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>like the rainbow roses, though. Can I mix-and-match flowers to make one bouquet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed and chose one of the rainbow bouquets. “I’ll make it easy on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stopped himself from saying another witty one-liner and instead thanked her as they headed for the cash register. He was a little surprised to realize that he meant it, and rang up her flowers in a daze. He handed her the receipt and thought that would be the end of Cute Tattoo Girl, but she stayed put. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Rapunzel, by the way,” she said, offering her right hand. Eugene took note of the tiny moons and stars tattooed on her fingers. A bright purple sun covered the back of her hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fly—um. Eugene.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rapunzel raised an eyebrow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He cleared his throat and quickly corrected himself. “Eugene. My name is Eugene.” He tried not to cringe as he shook her hand. His real name still felt so </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span>—like a shed skin he had been forced back into. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rapunzel grinned and gave a slight nod. “It’s very nice to meet you, Eugene.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hated that she met him as Eugene, the dorky fake florist. He absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated</span>
  </em>
  <span> it, and he could feel himself blushing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her smile almost made up for it, though. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for helping me with the flowers. She’ll love them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for dealing with my lack of expertise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll learn,” Rapunzel said with a laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how do you know that?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shrugged. “We all do.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Eugene could respond, Rapunzel grabbed her bouquet and headed for the door. “See you around, Eugene.” She gave a slight wave and left, leaving him dumbstruck behind the register.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See you,” he muttered. He wasn’t sure how he felt about seeing her again. She had seen right through him—through all the bravado that usually kept him so safe—and she had done so within minutes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He still liked her. At least, he thought he liked her; he wasn’t exactly used to making new friends. Allies, maybe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But never friends. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He noticed a rainbow rose petal that had fallen on the counter. He knew it wasn’t particularly valuable—just a petal stained with purple—but he still checked his surroundings and pocketed it. At this point, it was instinct. It was how he survived. Eugene hadn’t owned a damn thing in the world, so he became Flynn. Flynn took whatever he could and claimed them as his own. He took and he took and he took, and he wouldn’t stop until he owned the whole world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just wished he knew how to survive as Eugene. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Rainbow roses are a real thing, and now I desperately want a rainbow bouquet.</p><p>Thank you for reading! :) Comments/kudos always make my day. You can also find me on Tumblr @ ink-and-moonbeams. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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